Swimming Pool
by Fail with Eloquence
Summary: Amy finds the swimming pool. 11/Amy. Slightly cheesy fluff.


Well! First, I think it should be said that I have never, ever, written fluff in my life. I'm not sure why, because I really do like reading it. I guess I've always just been an angsty fanfiction writer. I'm not even angsty in real life. BUT either way, you always have to broaden your horizons, and I actually enjoyed writing this. I'm just not sure how good it is. (;

I love these two. They are fast becoming my favorite Doctor Who ship, and they've only been around for four episodes? I'm impressed. I love them. So I had to write something. Nothing serious just yet, as much as I wanted to. This is pure, adorable fluff. I hope.

Set a few weeks in.

Please review. (:

**Disclaimer:** BBC and Steven Moffat.

* * *

"Ah, there you are." And there she was indeed. He'd walked straight into magnified starlight, a small door hidden today between the kitchen and what he could only guess was Santa's workshop. Alien flora of all colors greeted his eyes, nose, and lungs. The room had the air of being wide and spacious, despite all the plants, and it already _sounded_ comfortable. There was a path, leading behind a particularly large plant, and he took it. Then he stopped. In front of him, in a giant, sparkling blue – with a slight tinge of orange, from the starlight – body of water, was Amy. Floating on a purple body raft. Wearing nothing but a skimpy, black two-piece. And sunglasses.

He struggled to keep the "Blimey" under his breath.

"Found the swimming pool, I see."

"Oh yes," she smiled and adjusted her glasses. "And a lot quicker than you did. I thought you said it was in the library?"

"Yeah well, it moved, didn't it?"

She grinned at him. "Whatever. This is loads more impressive than the library anyway."

"What?! More impressive than the library?!"

"Well, yeah. Your library has what - Three shelves?" He opened his mouth to protest, but she raised her finger and stopped him. "I know, I know, they're deeper towards the back. Fat lot of good that is when you lose the _only a_rm-grabber on the entire TARDIS."

He moved closer to the pool, muttering something under his breath. Rassilon knows he looked.

"I grew up, you know, thinking of some _Beauty and the Beast _library. With rows and rows of books, and high ceilings and marble floors. And a swimming pool, I guess. Right in the middle," she added, laughing. She gazed at him, his feigned hurt written all over his face. She tried to hide her smile. "I do like your library, Doctor," she shrugged. "It's cozy. I was just _really _disappointed there was no swimming pool."

He smiled then and took a breath, scanning the room. Every room in the TARDIS, every single one, had it's own constant, unique scent. Of course the flowers made the most difference, but even Amy's room had the faintest whiff of plumeria. Not that he'd ever been inside. "Does this make up for it, at least?"

"Depends," she said, floating away from him. "How deep is it?"

He scratched his head. "The last swimming pool was only about 200ft. This could be more, it usually is. No knowing until you touch the bottom, I suppose."

"Too bad we can't," she said, drawing her hands across the surface.

"Why not?" She looked and watched the corners of his lips raise, only so slightly. "You're in the TARDIS," he said, unaware that he'd just ignited her chest and stolen her oxygen. _Again._ It was magical, really. _He_ was magical. It was almost exactly as he'd said it, when he came back again for the first time. The way he'd grinned at her, even in his acute panic, reaching for the fresh, smiling apple that her seven year-old hands had carved for him so many years before, and said, "I'm the Doctor, _I'm a time traveler._"

Actually, it was exactly the same.

"You should come for a swim," she said, her smile carrying through the room in her voice.

"Oh, I'm not really a swimmer," he mumbled. She heard him fumbling in his pockets for something.

"You _what?_" She turned back towards him. "You can't swim?"

"Hey, I didn't say that, did I?" He said, tracing the outside of the pool as she drifted farther from him. "I said I'm not really a swimmer. It- it's, it's weird, you know? Weird being surrounded by water like that. All over." He visibly shivered and brushed his hands over his arms. She bit her lip. He leaned over the edge, towards her, as if he didn't even want the TARDIS to know, and whispered, "I don't like it."

"You're _mad_," she said, lifting her sunglasses to bore her eyes into him. "If I lived here, I'd be in here 24/7."

"You what?"

"I always wanted to live in a house - or even, you know, a flat would've been better, _considering - _with a swimming pool. The nights spent dreaming of having my own swimming pool rivaled the nights spent dreaming of you, Doctor," she teased.

"_If_ you lived here?" He said, his tone monotonous.

"Well, yeah," she said, twirling her hair. "It's not exactly like I have a key, is it?"

He was silent for a long moment, long enough to make her worry she'd overstepped some invisible boundary. She was about to open her mouth to apologize, to tell him something rambley and anxious-sounding about how she didn't really even want a key, it was fine just being here, when he said, "Well _I'll have you know, _Pond, that I wasn't just dropping by to catch a peak of you in your itsy bitsy bikini," he said, then grinned at her and added, "though it is, always, a plus," at which she blushed. Probably, she assumed, brighter than the hair on her head. "I've got something for you."

He reached into his pocket again, and withdrew a silver, compared to his, key. "I know you've been with me a while, and I'm sorry it took so long. Been busy n' all that," he said, smiling sheepishly at her. "But you know," he dropped his gaze back to the key in his fingers, "I don't know if I really want to give it to you now."

She soon regained her composure. "And why not?!"

"WELL," he stood up, looking around the room again, this time with an air of distaste. "If you're going to be using me for my _swimming pool_-"

He was cut off by a splash, and looked to see that she'd abandoned the raft. "Well then, cut me off, Pond," he muttered. He waited, fiddling with her key and standing on the edge of the pool, but she'd resurfaced and pulled herself out almost faster than it had taken for him to marvel at how nice her arms were. Almost.

"Thank you," she said, reaching for the key in his hand. He gave no resistance and pulled her into a hug when she took it. She gave an airy laugh, and he gave an airy one in reply.

"You're welcome," he whispered, his contentment traveling unmuffled this time into her exposed ear. She grinned, and stepped back, just enough to get a look at him, and just enough to get her hands on his shoulders and give him a good shove.

"Yep."


End file.
